


Behind Closed Doors

by literally_no_idea



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with Very Little Comfort, Character Death, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death, Don't copy to another site, Emetophobia, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Father/Son Incest, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Tony, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Incest, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 12:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18446732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literally_no_idea/pseuds/literally_no_idea
Summary: Tony didn’t ask for this.(Mind the tags.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was already planning on writing something like this. Then I found out that one of my abusers is potentially dying sooner than I had thought (her health status is... Not Great), and I'm not goddamn prepared for that. So let's just say I bumped up this up on my list of things to write, and now I'm sad and a little nauseous.
> 
> Anyway, once again, please pay attention to the tags, other than that, enjoy? I think? Sure, yeah.

Tony didn’t ask for this.

 

“Ah! Please, Dad, please.”

 

He… He didn’t ask for this.

 

“Sir, please, please.”

 

He asked for this. He  _ had _ to. He didn’t have a choice.

 

Howard kisses him, thrusts in and out slowly, almost gently. “Please what, Anthony?”

 

Tony doesn’t want to answer that. He doesn’t want to ask for it. He didn’t ask for this. He doesn’t want this.

 

Howard stops moving, grabs Tony’s chin so Tony has to make eye contact. “Please what, son, say it.”

 

Tony still hesitates, hesitates until the grip on his chin gets tighter and a hand moves down to stroke his cock. “Please! Please let me cum, please, please,” Tony begs, voice breaking as he sobs, and Howard lets go of his chin, uses a thumb to wipe away Tony’s tears.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ll give you what you want, what you  _ need _ .”

 

Tony cries as Howard starts to thrust again, stroking Tony’s cock in time until they’re both coming at the same time, Howard coming inside him and Tony coming on his own stomach.

 

Howard pulls out, reaches a hand down to scoop up some of both his and Tony’s cum on his fingers, holding it out for Tony to lick clean. He does, trying to ignore the way his stomach revolts against the idea, holding down the vomit and the tears as best he can.

 

“What do you say, Anthony, when someone helps you?”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Tony says quietly, and Howard nods.

 

“You’re welcome. Clean up, then go to sleep. You need your rest, after all, you’re getting your picture taken for the paper tomorrow! A circuit board at just four years old. Keep it up, and someday you might even have a place in the R&D department at Stark Industries.”

 

Howard leaves, and Tony heads to the bathroom, climbing in the tub and turning the water on as hot as it will go, hoping that the running water will prevent his sobs from being heard and the heat will burn off the dirty feeling he can’t seem to shake anymore, the one he’s had since this all started last year.

 

* * *

 

As Tony gets older, Howard doesn’t stop, but he does get more aggressive. He’s still gentle, sometimes, but not always. He’s started to drink more, and every new invention Tony makes seems to be followed by a string of particularly rough nights.

 

“You think you’re so damn smart, huh? Think you’re going to out do me, do you? Come on, we both know that I’m the only one that’s capable of giving you what you want, what you need, stop fighting it,” Howard says as he fucks six year old Tony the night after his picture is taken for the papers with his newly built V8 engine, pulling Tony’s hair back so that he’s forced to lift his head off the pillows, chest pushed down into the mattress.

 

Tony wants to argue, wants to say that he just enjoys building, it’s not his fault, but he knows that’s a lie, and arguing will only make this hurt worse. So he stays silent other than to beg for release, because begging at least makes his dad finish faster, makes this end sooner.

 

Howard gets them both off, Tony thanks him, and Howard leaves Tony to take a bath and go to sleep. And if Tony sobs in the tub when he sees a little swirl of red bleed into the water from his body, then he pretends it just didn’t happen.

 

* * *

 

Tony doesn’t expect to make friends at MIT. There’s very few people who trust someone with parents as rich and famous as his dad is, and even if they didn’t mind that, they would definitely mind having a teenager show them up. Howard definitely hates it, so Tony doesn’t expect anyone here to be different.

 

Then he runs into James Rhodes. Literally, runs into him. He’s racing across campus to his next class, coffee in one hand and his textbook in the other when he crashes into someone, spilling coffee all over both of them as he collapses in front of the person.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” Tony gasps out, scrambling to his feet to get a better look at the guy’s coffee-stained shirt. It was a nice shirt, too, a clean white oxford that didn’t look like it had been worn more than once or twice before. “I’ll buy you a new one, I swear, I’m so sorry. Uh, here.” Tony pulls out his wallet. “Uh, is a hundred dollars good? I’m not sure how much that one cost, I’m sorry,”

 

“Whoa, take a deep breath,” the guy says finally, pushing Tony’s hand with the hundred dollars in it away. “It’s fine. This shirt was my mom’s idea, I’ll be glad to get rid of it. Besides, you look like that hurt you more than it hurt me. Are you okay? I’m James Rhodes. Rhodey, if you prefer.” He holds his hand out. “I’m holding my hand out to shake yours, not to take your money. I don’t want it.”

 

Tony takes a deep breath like he was told, then shakes Rhodey’s hand. “Tony Stark. I really am sorry, though.”

 

“You’re forgiven, if you really need to hear that, but seriously, don’t stress about it. Where were you in such a hurry to get to, anyway?”

 

“My bio-inspired robotics class?” Tony says, knowing that this is probably going to get him yelled at for being such a know-it-all, but lying also isn’t a good option, not when it’s so easy to fact check.

 

But instead of yelling, Rhodey nods. “Sounds cool. Are you still headed that way, or do you maybe just want to take a break? I don’t have class right now, I’m headed to get coffee, maybe you want to replace the one you just spilled.”

 

Against Tony’s better judgement, he nods. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Uh, I’ll let you lead the way?”

 

Rhodey starts walking, and Tony follows him, wondering what the catch is going to be, what Rhodey is going to ask for in return after they get coffee, what threat he’ll use to make Tony do something he wants.

 

But when Rhodey leaves the coffee shop to go to class an hour later, Tony still sitting at the table they talked at, he hasn’t asked Tony for anything, hasn’t made any kind of threat or request. Tony doesn’t know what to do with that.

 

He goes to his next class feeling slightly unsettled, but he ignores the feeling in favor of sketching out some schematics on scrap paper during class.

 

When he spots Rhodey in the cafeteria later in the day, he figures it can’t be coincidence, and he’s proved right when Rhodey heads straight over to him. “Hey, so, I know I ditched out on you earlier today, but did you want to come over to my apartment? I have a project I’m working on, and I could use some helpful insight. You seem like the kind of person that would be good to ask for that.”

 

Tony nods. “Sure. Right now?”

 

Rhodey looks a little startled by that reply, and Tony’s not sure why, but he hopes that he didn’t overstep, because he just wants this to go as smoothly as possible. “Yeah, sure. This way.”

 

Tony follows him to his apartment, and they go to his room to sit on the bed together. “Sorry, the couch is just really uncomfortable,” Rhodey says, and Tony shrugs, trying to ignore the twisted feeling in his gut.

 

“It’s fine. So, how did you want me?”

 

Rhodey frowns. “What?”

 

Tony scoffs. “Come on, we both know that I’m not here to help you with homework. I messed up, and this is the result. So just, what do you like?”

 

“You’re- You can’t be serious. Jesus, you’re, what, 15? Where did you get the idea that this is how life works?”

 

Tony’s head is spinning, because this doesn’t make any sense. “I… I don’t…” His chest starts heaving of its own volition, and Tony can feel the tears burning down his cheeks.

 

“Christ, okay, hey, deep breaths. Match my breathing, okay? We’re going to breathe in for four seconds, out for eight, okay? Breathe in for one, two, three, four, and out one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. It’s okay, you’re doing great. Here we go, let’s do that again, breathe in…”

 

It takes about ten repetitions before Tony’s able to slow his breathing down enough to start calming down on his own, but Rhodey just keeps talking him through it, and Tony lets him, lets Rhodey’s voice continue to calm him down until he’s aware enough to realize what he’s doing, and then he stops abruptly, looking up from behind his knees (when had he curled up like that?) and meeting Rhodey’s eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “That was stupid, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that.”

 

Rhodey gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure I did. You might have passed out if I hadn’t, and I don’t think that would make for a good reputation. ‘James Rhodes, the guy who made Tony Stark pass out in his bedroom.’”

 

Tony laughs, and it comes out a little more like a sob than he’d originally intended. “Yeah, you’re right. Probably not a good reputation to have.”

 

Tony stares at the worn beige carpet, tries to figure out if the tiny darker patch is a stain or just a weird flaw in the carpet itself.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Tony turns back to Rhodey, frowning. “Talk about what?”

 

“Whoever has done this to you before. Because it sure seems like you were expecting me to want something like that from you, and expectations like that usually only happen if someone’s done that before.”

 

Tony shrugs. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I think I’ve already bothered you enough, and I’ve only known you for a single day, Rhodes.”

 

He stands, grabbing his bag off the floor and starting for the door when Rhodey puts a hand on his arm. “Hey, I meant what I said earlier. I did want some insight on my project. You don’t have to, but you can stay and check it out, if you want.”

 

Tony stays, and when he leaves three hours later, with a stomach full of pizza and hot chocolate and cookies and a new number in his phone, he thinks that running into Rhodey might have been the best mistake of his life.

 

* * *

 

Tony makes Dum-E at sixteen, and has his picture taken again for the papers. He puts on a smile, tries to hide the sinking feeling in his gut when Howard tells him to come home for the holidays, no exceptions. He doesn’t have much choice anyway; Mom always wants him home, and so does Jarvis, and Tony can’t break either of their hearts by refusing to come home.

 

So he shows up at the mansion on Christmas Eve, and his dad doesn’t waste any time, coming into his room that night and shoving Tony face first into the pillows because “we can’t have you disturbing your mother and the Jarvises, can we?” Tony whimpers into the pillows, can’t even beg to make this go any faster, just has to lay there and take it as his father uses him.

 

Howard gets himself off and doesn’t bother touching Tony, doesn’t bother getting him off, just takes some of his own cum and shoves it into Tony’s mouth, Tony sucking his fingers clean silently, tears streaming down his face as he tastes the iron mixed with cum that tells him he’s bleeding, too.

 

“What do you say to me? I just helped you remember what you’re really good for.”

 

“Thank you,” Tony whispers, and Howard nods.

 

“Good. Wash up, then get some sleep. After all, tomorrow’s Christmas!”

 

Tony sobs in the tub, curled up in a ball as the water rises around him.

 

* * *

 

When the holidays are over, Tony goes to Rhodey’s apartment and knocks on the door, not sure if he’s hoping more for Rhodey to be home or not to be. He gets his answer when Rhodey opens the door and Tony flings himself at the man, sobbing.

 

“I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to,” he cries, and Rhodey half walks, half carries him into the apartment, shutting the door behind them and setting Tony down on the couch.

 

“I know Tones, I know. You can still tell someone,” Rhodey tries, but as always, Tony shakes his head.

 

“No one would believe me. I can’t. And I can’t hurt my mom like that. I just can’t.”

 

Rhodey nods, because as much as he wishes he could help more, he knows Tony is right. There’s not many people that would believe that Howard Stark, legendary entrepreneur, was a rapist and a pedophile, with his own child, no less. So Rhodey lets the conversation drop, and just holds Tony as best he can, does what he can to help.

 

* * *

 

It takes all of Rhodey’s mental energy not to punch Howard when he sees him at Rhodey and Tony’s graduation. There’s cameras and reporters everywhere, and Rhodey’s life would become a living hell if he did it, not to mention the questions that would be asked. There’s no way Rhodey can do that. Still, he’s tempted. So, so tempted.

 

Instead, he asks Tony if he and his family can come to Tony’s graduation party, and Tony quickly accepts, shooting Rhodey a look of gratitude as they head to the celebration. Tony spends as much time as possible with Rhodey without drawing too much attention, only interacting with his father when absolutely necessary.

 

When the party finally comes to an end, and the reporters have left, Rhodey asks Tony if he wants to go home with them. Tony looks momentarily torn, but when he looks back at his mom’s face, he tells Rhodey no, and he goes home with his parents.

 

Rhodey wishes he wouldn’t have, but he understands. Rhodey loves his own mom with all his heart and soul, so he knows why Tony’s going home with them, but he wishes it didn’t have to be this way.

 

* * *

 

Tony’s 21 years old when Howard and Maria die. He has to face the media almost immediately, and he has a script to follow.

 

“My father, the legendary entrepreneur and leader in scientific and technological advancement, has passed, and with the loss of such a strong, influential man, our nation mourns, but none so much as those of us who knew him personally. A father, a friend, a business partner, a man with ideas and heart in equal measure. He will be missed.”

 

Tony gives multiple statements over the next few days, at the funeral and in various interviews, and each one drains him more and more, reminding him that the person that he knew and the person that the public knew were two very different people. But that’s not something he can say now, not when his father is dead, not when the public is mourning his death. Speaking ill of the dead, especially right after their death, is one of the worst social taboos there is, and it’s not one that Tony is willing to break.

 

Instead, Tony waits until the end of the week, when the news has died down and he finally finds himself away from the prying eyes and ears and cameras of reporters, and he goes to Rhodey’s house, knocks on the door and asks for a drink when Rhodey opens it.

 

Tony stays in Rhodey’s living room while the other man goes out and buys a couple hundred dollars worth of alcohol (“here,” Tony had said, handing over his wallet, “just buy whatever you can get. I don’t even want to think today”), coming back with four grocery bags full of alcohol.

 

“Pick your poison,” Rhodey says, and Tony grabs the whiskey first, because it will burn his throat to drink it and he needs some kind of pain to think about that doesn’t have to do with his father. Rhodey matches him almost drink for drink in the first half hour, and then he stops, switching to water while Tony keeps drinking.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhodey asks finally, and Tony shakes his head, but starts talking anyway.

 

“It’s just so fucking shitty, Rhodey, I have to go out there and talk about how good and wonderful and amazing he was, and he wasn’t! He was a terrible human being and a terrible father, and I can’t even say anything! How do I tell a nation in mourning that their favorite entrepreneur was a pervert who started fucking his own son when his kid was three years old! I was  _ three _ , Rhodey, I was three goddamn years old. What right did he have? What fucking right!”

 

Tony sobs, taking another swig of vodka and hiccuping. “He was so gentle at first, too. He really was. For the first year or so? He just. It was wrong, but at least he didn’t  _ hurt _ me. But then I started building things, and it got so much worse. He knew I was building things he could never dream of, and he hated me for it. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t just give it up, Rhodey, I couldn’t. It was my only escape. It’s the only thing that ever really mattered to me. It was the one time when I didn’t feel like jumping off of the nearest fucking bridge. Until I met you, at least.”

 

Tony laughs, a broken noise that just sounds wrong coming from him right now. “You mean the world to me, Rhodes. You know, I really did think you wanted to fuck me, that first day we met. I was confused when you didn’t, but that was the safest I think I’ve ever felt. Before that, I’d never… I’d never known it was possible to feel that comfortable around anyone. That safe and… and  _ loved _ .”

 

Rhodey holds his arms out, and Tony collapses into him, sobbing. “I fucking love you, Rhodey. Damn it, you’re so good to me, Rhodes. You’re too good to me.”

 

“Damn right, and I’m not going anywhere, Tones. You’re my best friend. I’m not giving up on you now. I’m not giving up on you now.”

 

And when Tony spends the next morning throwing up in Rhodey’s bathroom with a pounding headache, Rhodey just comes in and hands him a glass of water and some aspirin, leaves a toothbrush on the counter and says something about cooking breakfast, and Tony knows that if there’s one thing he never wants to forget from his shitty childhood, it’s this. He never wants to forget Rhodey, or anything the man has done for him. He’ll do everything in his power to help Rhodey too, because that’s what friendship is. That’s what love is.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By request, a follow up showing the Avengers' reactions to finding out about Tony's childhood.

Only Rhodey knows.

 

Tony doesn’t tell anyone else, not even Pepper, because he doesn’t know how to even approach the topic. “Hey, my dad raped me from a young age and I only have tons of sex with people because it’s my version of self harm,” “I love you and that’s exactly why I don’t want to have sex with you because then I might actually start to hate you or be scared of you and I don’t want to lose what we have together,” “I spend most of my time building things because it’s the only time I ever actually feel safe and comfortable in my own skin without wanting to scream or cry.”

 

None of those are necessarily good conversation starters, or at least, not for any conversation Tony wants to have. Therapy is out of the question; any therapist would jump on the chance to evaluate a Stark, and his trauma would undoubtedly make the news by the following week, and then there would be questions, accusations, and more negative press than even Pepper would be able to fix.

 

So Tony doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t go to therapy after Afghanistan, and he doesn’t go to therapy after Stane, or the palladium poisoning, or the wormhole, or Killian, or Ultron, or… well. He just keeps everything buried as far down as he can manage, and then he finds time to get absolutely wasted with Rhodey and vent as much of his pain as he can before he sobers up.

 

Natasha’s report about him hurts. ‘Textbook narcissism.’ As if Tony has any choice than to project a persona of arrogance and disregard for others. What is he supposed to do, act like the traumatized kid he still feels like and get treated like nothing he does matters? Get his ideas and inventions brushed aside? Get talked to like he’s a wounded animal or a small child? No. He’s not going to do that. And if narcissism is what he projects, at least it’s better than being an easy target.

 

Steve’s whole attitude towards him hurts too. “The only thing you really fight for is yourself.” As if Tony has a choice. Who else is going to fight for him? Rhodey, maybe. Okay, definitely Rhodey. But anyone else? No one else is going to give a shit about a rich white boy with daddy issues.

 

And it’s not like Tony only fights for himself. Hell, the only reason he’s alive is because he needs to honor Yinsen’s death. If it were up to Tony, he would have just died in that cave, but Yinsen is counting on him to avenge his family’s deaths, and Rhodey would be distraught if Tony died. Tony can’t hurt him like that. He can’t. Rhodey’s done so much for him.

 

Tony’s trying so damn hard to fight to help other people. That’s why he made Ultron. That’s why he signed the accords. That’s why he funded all those MIT students’ projects. That’s why he opened a shelter for abused children with a name separate from his. That’s why he funds rebuilding efforts in every place the Avengers have caused damage. That’s why he made the Stark Relief Foundation in the first place.

 

But he doesn’t expect Steve to understand. It doesn’t hurt any less, especially when this is the man his father compared him to his entire life, told him he would never be as good as, told him that Steve was always his greatest creation, the pinnacle of what a good man should be.

 

Tony remembers years of his childhood wishing that Howard would find Steve, just so he wouldn’t have to hear about it, wouldn’t have to deal with his drunk father in the aftermath of another failed attempt to find Steve. If Howard was violent after every new invention of Tony’s, he was downright brutal after another failed search attempt for Steve.

 

But Tony’s not going to say anything. He’s not. No matter what happens.

 

And then the Avengers move into the tower.

 

Which, okay, Tony had been expecting (after all, he did rename it “Avengers tower”), but Steve brings Bucky with him, claiming that Bucky’s been cleared to be here by Princess Shuri, and sure, Tony doesn’t doubt that, and sure, Tony’s had enough time to think since their last encounter to feel guilty for attacking the man in the first place, but it’s still a lot to process. Tony lets them stay anyway, even apologizes for attacking them last time they met, and he leaves it at that.

 

Things fall apart when Tony gets stuck watching American Beauty with the heroes. Tony had just wanted to grab some food from the communal floor and then head back down to his workshop, but he’s halfway to the elevator when Bruce stops him.

 

“Hey, Tony, why don’t you come watch a movie with us?”

 

Tony stops, turning. “No thanks, I’m busy, just came up for some food.”

 

“What, you don’t even want to be around your own team?” Steve asks, and there’s an underlying tone of accusation, so Tony grits his teeth, sitting down on the couch beside Clint.

 

“Fine. Play it.”

 

The movie starts, and Tony’s stomach sinks, because he’d started to watch this on his own once and had ended up stopping because he was too busy throwing up to follow what was happening, his father’s voice ringing in his ears. But he’s already sitting here and the movie’s started, and he can’t just leave without attracting unwanted attention. So he stays, tries to focus on anything besides the movie, which is a little impossible when nothing else is happening.

 

Lester’s first fantasy about Angela sets Tony off, and he doesn’t even notice that he’s visibly upset until Clint puts a hand on his shoulder and he flinches.

 

“Dude, are you okay?” Clint asks, and Tony stands, nodding.

 

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine. I just really need to get some work done, and I don’t have time to sit around. I’ll see you all later.”

 

Tony’s out of the room and down to the lab before anyone can ask any other questions.

 

* * *

 

Tony spends the next 143 hours in the lab. He’d tried to sleep when he got down there, but had woken up screaming after just two hours, and had decided not to try that again. So he’s been awake for 141 hours and counting when someone opens the door, and since Tony has the workshop on lockdown, that can only be one person.

 

“Honey bear!” Tony says, turning to face Rhodey. “What can I do for you?”

 

“You can start by telling me what triggered you,” Rhodey says, and Tony tries to laugh it off.

 

“Come on, I’m fine! I’m getting some work done, when is that any different from normal?”

 

Rhodey gives him a look. “Tony. The last time you went on an inventing binge, you had just come back from Siberia, and even then you only spent 93 hours in the lab. Pepper said you refused to come to meetings, and won’t even answer her texts. What’s going on?”

 

Tony sighs. “Look, it’s nothing. The team wanted to watch American Beauty. I stuck around for too long, and now I can’t sleep. So I’ve just been drinking coffee and Red Bull and working. At some point I’ll pass out, and then I can get the sleep I need without the nightmares.”

 

“That’s not safe, and you know it. Look, come get some food with me, okay? We’ll grab something off the communal floor, take it to your room, and I’ll be there so you can try and get some sleep.”

 

Rhodey holds out a hand, and Tony takes it, standing up. “Yeah, okay. Why not. Thanks, Rhodes.”

 

They head to the communal floor, and they’ve just started to leave with their two plates of grilled cheese sandwiches when Steve enters the kitchen, frowning.

 

“So is hiding from the team your idea of a good time? Because it’s really starting to grate on my nerves that you think you’re so much better than the rest of us that you don’t even want to be around us,” Steve says, and Tony’s heart pounds in his chest.

 

“That’s not what I’m doing, Rogers, this has nothing to do with you,” he says, and he starts to walk past him when Steve puts a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

 

“You know, you really think you’re all that, don’t you? Do you genuinely not care about anyone else?”

 

“Lay off, Captain,” Rhodey warns, and Steve turns on him instead.

 

“Do you know something about Tony that the rest of us don’t? Because if you do, by all means, please share.”

 

Rhodey steps forward like he’s going to hit Steve, and Tony jumps between them, holding Rhodey back. “Rhodey, not now, please don’t,” Tony pleads, and Rhodey stops, taking a deep breath.

 

“Fine.” They start to walk away, but Steve apparently can’t resist having the last word.

 

“You’ll never be as good as your father, Stark.”

 

Tony stops dead in his tracks. He laughs. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, maybe it’s the hunger, maybe it’s just the sheer absurdity of that statement. Whatever the reason, Tony laughs hysterically, laughs so hard that he ends up curled in on himself on the floor, chest heaving with laughter, grilled cheese sandwiches spilled on the floor beside him.

 

“I never took you for a fucking comedian, Rogers,” he says finally between gasping breaths, and Steve looks positively furious.

 

“You really think you’re better than your father? With your past?”

 

“I  _ know _ I’m better than him. I’ve done a lot of shitty things, but I have never been as bad as he was. Never. I don’t have a son to fuck, and even if I did, I wouldn’t, because that’s disgusting, and I’m a lot of things, but I’m not  _ that _ .”

 

Steve’s expression falters, but then he frowns again. “What are you implying? Howard would never do that, he was a good man, that’s a low blow, even for you.”

 

Tony continues laughing hysterically, and Rhodey sets his own plate down on the counter, reaching behind him to grab the cast iron pan they’d used for the sandwiches off of the stove, adjusting his grip and turning, backhand swinging it into the side of Steve’s face with one fluid motion.

 

Steve stumbles a step back, reaching up to clutch his jaw as he stares at Rhodey in shock.

 

Rhodey glares at him, pan still in hand. “Don’t fucking talk to Tony like that. Big man in a fancy costume, and you think you suddenly know everyone’s story just by looking at them? Fuck you, Rogers. Your museum exhibit says you hate bullies? Have you punched any mirrors lately? Because you might need to start doing that if you’re going to keep that reputation. If you’ll excuse us,  _ Captain _ .”

 

Rhodey spits the last word, hoisting a still laughing Tony to his feet and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him standing. He grabs the plate of food he’d set aside with his other hand, leading Tony to the elevator and up to Tony’s personal floor.

 

By the time they reach Tony’s bedroom, Tony’s laughter has finally subsided, and he looks even worse than he had when Rhodey first found him in the workshop.

 

“Fuck. That happened, didn’t it?” Tony asks, and Rhodey nods.

 

“It did. But it doesn’t matter. You need to eat, and you need to sleep.”

 

Tony opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, and Rhodey holds up a hand.

 

“Don’t. Just don’t. Eat, and then sleep. I’ll be right here when you fall asleep, and I’ll be right here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Tony sighs, because that was Rhodey’s ‘do it or else’ voice, and the only time Tony had ever argued with that voice, he’d found himself in the worst twenty minute lecture of his life. Tony has no intention of ever repeating a situation like that again.

 

So he eats the sandwiches Rhodey hands him, and then he curls up under the covers. Rhodey sits on the floor beside the bed, because Tony still can’t sleep properly if there’s someone in the bed with him, and having someone sitting in a chair in the room doesn’t work either, because it just feels too much like he’s being observed like some kind of zoo animal.

 

Tony falls asleep to Rhodey talking softly about a new recipe he tried to make, and he wakes up to Rhodey sitting with his back against the wall by the bed, phone plugged in while he scrolls through a news app. “Morning, platypus,” Tony says, and Rhodey looks up, smiling.

 

“Afternoon, actually, but since you were so tired I think I can forgive you for that.”

 

“What time is it?” Tony sits up and stretches, yawning.

 

Rhodey looks at his phone. “2:45 pm, you got somewhere in the range of 22 hours of sleep. Feeling better?”

 

“Much.” Tony sits there for a few minutes. “So, I’m guessing that what happened with Steve isn’t just going to go away?”

 

“Nope. But I’ll be there with you, if it helps.”

 

Tony nods. “It does. Uh, should we go down there now? I think I might need some coffee, and food. Definitely more food. Can you make me some of that tortellini you said last night you think turned out pretty good?”

 

“Your ability to pick up on little details like that, even when you’re unbelievably sleep deprived, is actually a little scary,” Rhodey says, but he’s already standing and heading for the door. “Yeah, let’s go make tortellini, I bet you can help make it even better.”

 

Tony follows Rhodey to the elevator and down to the communal floor kitchen, where they find the place suspiciously empty. Huh. It’s not until after they’ve finished cooking, however, that they call the other heroes down to join them.

 

“FRIDAY, tell anyone in the tower that we’re having a team… lunch? Dinner? Meal, team meal, and they’re all invited.”

 

“Certainly, Boss,” FRIDAY says, and a few minutes later, the heroes start to filter in, each of them greeting Tony and Rhodey with an unusual level of politeness. Tony thinks he’s figured out what’s going on now.

 

“So, let’s have tortellini and a talk at the same time, shall we?” Tony asks the group as everyone loads their plates, “Because it certainly appears that Steve’s shared some information with you all that I’m pretty sure he had no right to share.”

 

Half the room stiffens, and Steve opens his mouth to say something, but Tony cuts him off.

 

“Nope, I don’t care. Whatever reason you had, it’s done. So let’s just talk about it, okay? As per usual, I like being the center of attention, so I’ll start.”

 

The team settles down at the table with their plates, but no one has so much as touched their food before Tony starts speaking.

 

“Okay. I don’t think I worded things properly yesterday, when do I ever, but let me try again. Howard was not the man you knew. Or maybe he was, and then after you went missing he changed, or maybe he was only attracted to his own child and not anyone else’s. I don’t know. But he was good at hiding it, and contrary to popular belief, I’m good at keeping a secret. So there’s that.”

 

Tony takes a few bites of food, more out of anxiety than anything else. Well, maybe because this is also his second meal in six days, but whatever. No one fills the silence, so Tony keeps talking.

 

“It was a constant in my childhood. Most kids don’t remember memories before, like, five years old, but lucky me, I have memories as far back as three years old, and Dad raping me goes as far back as that. Kept going until he died, actually. By the way,” Tony says, turning to Bucky, “you may or may not remember, but when we fought last, I said I didn’t care that you were brainwashed because you’d killed my mom. Note that I never mentioned my father. You could have killed just him and I would have been grateful, honestly.”

 

Bucky looks like he’s going to be sick, but he doesn’t say anything.

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Clint looks mortified, and Tony shrugs.

 

“Come on. Would any of you have believed me? I’m a textbook narcissist, ‘genius billionaire playboy philanthropist,’ my dad was a beloved public figure, and I’m just an asshole in a suit.”

 

“But then how did you and Pepper…?” Bruce starts, and Tony shakes his head.

 

“We never did. I always passed it off as something else. Said I didn't like the idea of that much commitment. I have a reputation. That was enough.”

 

When Steve meets Tony’s eyes, he looks like he’s going to start crying. “How did you cope with that for so long?”

 

Tony laughs, but it sounds hollow and cold even to his own ears. “Honestly? I didn’t. I tried to commit suicide the year before I went to MIT. It didn’t work, obviously, and my father just hurt me more in the weeks after, gave me even less space until I got to MIT. I wanted to give up, but then I kept thinking about my mom, and Jarvis, and I couldn’t do it.”

 

Tony stares at his plate, takes the hand Rhodey offers him. “I’ve thought about it more recently, but after the years I spent making weapons, I figure I owe a debt that I can’t repay. So I need to be alive to make as many reparations as I can. Even if it’s never enough. Even if I’m never enough. It’s not like that would be any different from any other day.”

 

There’s a few minutes of silence, and Tony finally looks up at each of the people at the table. “Well, that’s what I have to say. Your turns.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Natasha blurts out, speaking for the first time in this conversation, and every head turns towards her. “I said a lot of things. In my report of you. I think I fucked up. No, I  _ know _ I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Tony.”

 

“Me too,” Steve says quietly. “I’ve said a lot of things that I can’t take back. I don’t know how you don’t hate me right now, but I think you have every right to hate me.”

 

“If it’s worth anything, you put up a damn good front. I’ve got to applaud you for that. But, uh, I’ve been where you are, sort of. It’s not exactly the same, but anything I can do to help,” Clint says, and Bruce nods.

 

“Same here. Christ, Tony, I had no idea it was that bad.”

 

“I don’t really know what I can say to help, you might not want to hear anything from me at all, but I’m sorry,” Bucky says.

 

Tony nods, pushing the food around on his plate absentmindedly. “Yeah. Cool, good talk. So, uh. Can we all move on now? Like, go back to normal and stuff?”

 

“On one condition,” Steve says, and Tony’s not sure what to expect with that, and he tries not to panic. “You stop hiding behind your workshop doors, and actually talk to one of us. Let us help. We’re not perfect, but we’d like to try, if you’ll let us.”

 

Tony looks around the table to find everyone nodding, and he looks at Rhodey for support, because he has no idea what to do with this. Rhodey shrugs, and Tony hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Why not.”

 

There’s a silence again, and Tony can only take so much silence before he needs to fill the void. “So, does anyone want to watch a movie? Because I happen to know for a fact that none of you have bothered to show Steve or Bucky any of this century’s kids shows and movies, and that’s a serious shame, because Pokémon is a god-tier show, and you all are cowards for not watching Indigo League together.”

 

It’s enough to make Clint laugh. “Fuck you, Stark, My Little Pony is the best and you know it.”

 

Tony grins. “Bullshit, Barton. Lies and slander.”

 

“Well, there’s only one way to settle accusations as serious as this,” Steve deadpans, and Bucky nods.

 

“That’s right. To the living room?”

 

Tony nods. “To the living room. First one there gets to play their show first!” Tony’s already out of his seat and running to the living room before he’s finished the sentence, and Clint yelps, leaping to his feet.

 

“That’s cheating, you suck!”

 

“Deal with it!”

 

Rhodey sighs, pushing his chair in and gathering his and Tony’s dirty dishes, Natasha grabbing hers and Clint’s.

 

“They’re petulant children, I swear,” Rhodey says, and Natasha smiles.

 

“Yeah, but they’re our petulant children. You coming?”

 

Rhodey nods. “Obviously, because Tony’s right, and I want to see his face when he wins this argument.”

 

Natasha glances around, leaning in so only Rhodey can hear her. “You’re absolutely right, and as much as I love Clint, I want to watch his dreams get crushed.” She pulls away with a smirk, holding out an arm. “Shall we, Colonel?”

 

Rhodey links his arm with hers, grinning. “Yes, Agent, I believe we shall.”

 

They enter the living room just in time for the first Pokémon episode to start.


End file.
